


Don't Melt

by Lousy



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Dib & Zim Friendship (Invader Zim), Dib is lonely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 06:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22131499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lousy/pseuds/Lousy
Summary: Zim is trapped at the school overnight unless someone helps him, giving Dib the chance he didn't know he wanted to try something new.Rated for language.
Relationships: Dib & Zim (Invader Zim)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 67





	Don't Melt

The first two times the door slammed into Zim’s side he picked a fight. They were explosive, short, and entirely verbal, but the frightened looks on his classmates’ faces as they fled across the awning and through the rain to their cars acted as a salve to Zim’s ego. The third and fourth times didn’t draw Zim from his slouch behind the door and elicited only a few harsh words and a shaking fist. Once the bell officially declared the end of the school day, the door-related offenses were innumerable and Zim’s wrath was consequently spread thin. By the time the flood of students had slowed, Zim had given up on yelling and protested by sitting behind the door so that it couldn’t fully open. Watching his classmates squeeze out and glare at him was gratifying but even that, after a while, lost its charm. Such it was that Zim didn’t look up when the door jammed into his side and a familiar face wriggled out of the gap.

“Zim?”

Zim’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing into an aggressive squint when he saw who had disturbed him. “What are _you_ still doing here Dib-stink? I would have thought you’d be gone by now doing… Dib-stink things.”

“I think the better question is why you’re still here, space-boy. Forget an umbrella?” Dib waved his Membrane-patented-lightning-proof-water-repulsion-apparatus in Zim’s face as the door slammed behind him.

“Zim would never forget his acid-protection set to school. You show staggering insolence by even suggesting the possibility," he shouted. "But if you must know, a filthy worm-baby took it when he became overwhelmed by my undeniable superiority. He will pay in due time for ever crossing Zim!”

“Oh.” Dib looked at his umbrella, then banished the thought that flickered across his mind. “Well I, uh, hope you like school because this is where you’re spending the night.” Dib cringed at his weak attempt suavity, but Zim appeared not to care.

“What? Do you have knowledge of this rain? Tell meee.” Zim leapt to his feet, grabbing at the phone he knew Dib kept in the front pocket of his pants ‘because it’s better for your back, shut up.’

Dib swatted the grasping claws away, but pulled his phone out regardless. He found the weather radar already open in a tab and held it at waist height for Zim to see. Dib watched him lean his face within inches of the screen and then saw how it fell once he digested the information.

“All night? LIES!” Despite his own declaration of the radar’s faultiness, Zim flung himself at the steel slabs that were the school doors, making a loud attempt to pry them open.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know, you’re usually glued to the radar when a storm comes by.”

Zim punched the door one more time before backing away from it with a frown. “Zim’s phone was also taken by an insolent filth.”

“That… actually sucks.” Dib tried and failed to produce a shit-eating grin, his face instead falling into a look of pity.

Zim’s face flushed dark when he saw the expression."Why does your face look like that? It looks ugly, you should stop being so ugly, Zim demands it! Leave!" He pointed a quivering finger past the awning and into the rain. Taken aback by Zim's defensiveness, Dib quickly unfurled his umbrella and disappeared into the sheets of rain. He huddled into himself when a shriek was swallowed by the torrents.

* * *

Dib would have liked to believe that he didn’t think about Zim for the rest of the night, but his thinking about Zim the entire walk home foiled any hope of that. The thoughts that swarmed his head quickly became overwhelming so, knowing that his sister was unavailable to tell him to ‘stop being a weirdo,’ Dib spoke to the most rational and reliable person he knew. Himself.

“Based on the radar, Zim isn’t going to be able to go anywhere tonight.”

“I could use this opportunity to sneak into his base and put an end to the project he’s been telling me about for the past four years.”

“But I’m like 99% sure he’s just bluffing about that, it’s not like Zim to think so far ahead. It’s pretty clear that he doesn’t want to work but also doesn’t want to admit that to himself, so… what should I do?”

“Should I do anything?”

“I probably should. The chances of the wind picking up and blowing rain under the awning are good.”

“Wouldn’t that be a good thing? And besides, I’m sure he could break into the school to escape the rain if he really needed to.”

Dib made an exasperated noise at his own ability to play devil’s advocate. “Yeah, okay, but I know he isn’t fully capable in cold weather, so at the point where he needs to break in he might not be able to. He can’t spend the night there and I think he knows that.”

Someone Dib recognized from school appeared through the rain walking the opposite direction. As they passed each other, Dib averted his gaze to avoid the facial equivalent of ‘you’re weird’ he knew was there.

“So… Zim needs help.”

“I could take advantage of that.”

“But it’s not like I want to kill him, I just want…”

“I mean it would make the most sense logically to kill him, get rid of my problem once and for all.”

Dib paused in his ranting to chew his lip. “But I would… I would… miss out on so much… alien knowledge. I could just ask him to answer some of my questions in exchange for my help!”

“Ahh, but wouldn’t want to tell me anything. And if he did, I could never be sure he wasn’t lying. Hmm.”

Dib walked the rest of the way to his house in silence, allowing his thoughts to run ahead of his mouth. The lights were off when he arrived. He entered through the garage and set his umbrella to ‘quick-dry’ mode wherein the water beaded to its surface was vaporized off. His trench coat had no such setting, so Dib set it on the designated ‘wet-item’ wall hooks to dry naturally.

Dib meandered through the garage, running his finger over the overflow machinery from the basement until he noted with distaste the dust he was picking up. He wiped his finger on his pants but continued to look for answers. Most of the tech had been abandoned for a reason and if Dib was being honest with himself, he wasn’t certain what he was looking for. And he had a feeling that what he was really needed wasn’t anywhere in the house. Dib’s train of thought halted when his knuckles brushed against the glass wall of a large 3D scanner his father had built before discovering they already existed. “Oh. Sure.”

He circled the machine to plug it into a daisy-chained power strip and find the control panel. Only after futzing with the circuit board and fixing a few solders did it turn on, at which point he swapped out the scanners for pilfered x-ray versions, repaired the rails they were mounted to, pushed new code, and ran a hurried trial with a box of latex gloves to test if his modifications had any explosive qualities. They didn’t.

Dib pushed a floppy piece of hair out of his face and stood back to look at his work. It was rough, but it would probably be fine. Upon reflection, Dib realized this was descriptive of the rest of his ‘scan-Zim’ plan. The ‘rescue-Zim’ plan was airtight, but this part… it would probably work itself out.

* * *

It was nearly dark and still raining by the time Dib jumped off his bike at the foot of the school’s awning, just missing a murky puddle. He expected to hear cackling in response to the graceless dismount, but the awning remained quiet. When Dib peered towards the doors he spotted Zim’s petite body curled where he had first found it, this time shrouded in shadow.

Dib wheeled his bike up the steps toward Zim— making a racket out of it to announce his presence. All he got in response was a weak look of disgust. Dib let the bike crash onto its side before squatting down in front of Zim, far enough back that the water on his jacket wouldn’t drip and an errant claw couldn’t reach him. “Hey.”

Zim narrowed his eyes, speaking slowly “What do you want.”

"I'm taking you back to my place. If you want. I guess I’m just offering to take you back to my place.”

Zim's wig twitched suspiciously as he sluggishly opened his mouth to deliver the standard ‘fuck you.’ In the time it took Zim to do this, however, he had time to consider the proposition and so, for the first time known to anyone, Zim thought before he spoke.

He was cold. Very cold. So cold and lethargic in fact that his ego allowed him to admit that he was currently helpless against even the most pitiful of Earth’s many threats. It would currently take no more than a hearty gust of wind to reduce him to a puddle of failed invader. Dib, not quite a threat and definitely not the dissection crazed pre-teen he once was, was offering to take Zim somewhere warm where he would at least be able to put up a fight in the event of Dib revealing that the past four years of amicability had all been an elaborate ruse. Ignoring his screaming invader instincts, Zim made his decision. "Zim is displeased, but will accept your offer."

Dib lowered the pointing finger he had raised at the start of Zim’s sentence. “Wait really? Just like that?”

“Yes Dib, just like that. Now either make good on your promise or stop stinking up my nook.” At this last part Zim eyeballed Dib’s dripping coat with as much malice as he could muster.

Dib fought a smile as he untied a garbage bag from his bike’s handlebars and pulled out a small raincoat. He tossed it in Zim’s direction before pulling out a towel and wiping down himself and his bike with it. The towel was sodden and about to be stuffed back in the bag before Dib noticed the coat was still on the ground. “What, is my old coat not good enough for you?”

“No, it’s not. There’s just,” Zim waved weakly at the water gushing from a nearby gutter and the relentless rain.

“Oh yee of little faith!” Dib stooped to pick up the coat and, after helping Zim struggle into a standing position, handed it to him. While Zim pulled it on, Dib picked up his bike and retied the bag to the handlebars. He beckoned to Zim and once he was within arms reach Dib grabbed him (“eh?!”) and sat Zim on the crossbar facing Dib. “What I was thinking was that you grab onto me and hold the umbrella over us while I ride. That way I don’t have to carry you.”

Zim squirmed and his stiff limbs nearly caused him to fall off the bike if not for a steadying hand. “Zim is not sure you’re idea is very good, Dib-beast.”

“Why not?” Dib shot his hand out again to keep Zim from toppling off the other side. “Would you rather ride in the bag?”

Zim scowled and scooted closer to Dib as his answer, reaching an arm under his rain jacket to grab the back of his shirt. In his other hand, he took the unfurled umbrella Dib offered and held it between their chests so that it just brushed the top of Dib’s head. Feeling the heat Dib radiated, Zim scooched closer and leaned his head on his warm, dry chest. He closed his eyes to avoid any snarky faces Dib might have made and mentally rehearsed a speech about his triumphant thievery of the Dib-worm’s warmth.

After Zim settled in, Dib pushed off. He made a wide turn before awkwardly walking the bike down the stoop’s steps. Zim’s grip tightened on Dib’s shirt during the descent and again when the near-deafening noise of rain pounding the umbrella began. Narrowly avoiding a puddle, Dib tried to lift a foot to a pedal. “Hey, uh, I can’t pedal with your legs down there.” He gestured to one of the legs dangling between his and the pedal. When he didn’t get a response, Dib grabbed it and shifted it around the seat, doing the same with the other leg and letting Zim hook his feet under the seat, next tucking the edge of his coat under them to protect from splashing water. He felt Zim blink into his chest as he raised his feet to the pedals and started for home.

Upon arrival he performed another sloppy dismount from his bike, during which Zim moved his legs so that when Dib was standing he was gripped around the waist by all of Zim's limbs. His claws had poked holes into Dib’s shirt and were beginning to irritate the skin underneath. Knowing this was no accident, Dib dropped his bike and roughly pulled Zim off himself. The alien released his grip once he realized what was happening and scurried under an overhanging gutter with the umbrella. He huddled here until Dib punched in the garage’s code and darted inside the moment it opened with Dib hot on his heels. “Hey, stop that! You can’t just run into my house!”

Zim rushed in further and threw the wet umbrella with a triumphant shout, the jacket following shortly after.

“What the hell? I thought you were like, y’know” Dib gestured noncommittally while taking large strides towards Zim, “almost dead.”

Zim dodged a grabbing lunge. “Zim was merely in energy conservation mode. I prayed first on your emotions and later your filthy mammal warmth while in this VERY STRATEGIC state of being.”

Dib stopped his forward momentum with a multimillion dollar piece of equipment and a grunt. “Fuck that, you were hibernating or some shit weren’t you… fuck! Stand still!” The two high schoolers continued their game of chase while weaving around dozens of scrapped inventions collectively worth more than most would spend in their entire lives.

Zim scrambled up one such piece of equipment and cackled down at his frustrated rival, “Hibernation shmibernation, you’re just mad that my master plan worked perfectly!”

“I’m doing you a favor you scummy bitch, now get off of that!”

“I think you will find that you were the scummy bitch _Dib_ for attempting to take advantage of my energy saving methods to dissect me,” Zim shouted.

“You know I don’t want to dissect you, and I could hardly be taking advantage of you if you ran away from me the second I stopped being of use to you!”

“I ran away from you the second you were going to throw me in that thing!”

“That’s a printer you dumbass!”

“No you’re the dumbass!”

“No you are because you’re worried about a printer when you’re sitting on top of… of… my dad’s germ machine!”

Zim’s eyes widened. “You lie."

Dib stopped his grabbing to lean back and cross his arms. “That there is the Germ Factory 7.9 and you’re sitting directly on top of its germ spreading apparatus. If you promise to stop being an erratic piece of shit I might still be able to remove the germs before they start eating your eyes.”

Zim gasped and scrambled backwards. Yes, there it was, a slight pucker in the metal where he had just been sitting. Zim could imagine the hoards of evil Membrane germs flooding out of it right this second and advancing quickly towards his eyes, oh what a fool he had been to let down his guard in enemy territory. Not looking at Dib, Zim shimmied off the infernal machine. “Zim promises.”

“Great, but we still need to act fast. Over here.” Dib turned dramatically to make his coat flare even more dramatically and stomped towards the only freshly refurbished machine in the entire garage. Struggling to keep a straight face, he opened the door and beckoned to Zim.

Zim stared for a moment, but when he met Dib’s gaze straightened up and marched forward. “Hurry up Dib-stink, I can feel my eyes melting over here.”

“Oh yeah, can’t let your eyes melt, you’d be a bad dissection specimen then.” Zim shot him a look. “Kidding, kidding!”

Zim climbed gingerly into the machine, yelping when he felt the door hit his butt. “Hey!”

Dib grinned as he pushed buttons on the control panel. A pair of lasers traced their way up and down Zim’s body and after a moment of that Dib moved to open the door.

“Is that it?” Dib stopped. “It didn’t even make any noise, all of my technology makes noise. I don’t think it worked.”

“Uh. Yeah, actually you might be right let me just…” Dib pressed a button and disappeared around the side of the scanner as lasers traced over Zim’s body, this time accompanied by a soundtrack of beeps, boops, whirs, more beeps, a YouTube ad, ‘fuck’, and some heavy machinery noises. This time when Dib opened the door, Zim didn’t stop him.

“I feel cleansed Dib-beast, you have made up for your erroneous error.”

“Yeah. My error.”

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

Zim stepped regally out of the scanner and made a show of dusting off his uniform. He glanced around at the garage he had so recently terrorized.

“So. What now.”

“Uh,” Dib’s hands hovered over the control pad. “I hadn’t really thought any farther than this.”

“‘This’ being getting me into your garage or infecting me and then disinfecting me with dangerous microbes?”

“... The first one.”

“Well that was stupid of you.”

Ignoring the jab, Dib finished saving the scan file and wandered to the rolling garage door to peer out the windows. It was already dark, and the rain heavy enough so that he couldn’t see more than a foot even with the house lights on. The house lights that implied a warmth and comfort within that Dib knew didn’t exist. He looked back at where Zim was scratching idly at his arm, for the moment, making good on his promise.

“Why don’t you just stay the night here?”

Zim stopped scratching. “What? Just take me back to my base.”

“But you live so far away!”

“No I don’t.”

“I’ll get hit by a car with the visibility so low!”

“Feeble excuses from a feeble being. Take me back, Zim demands it!”

Before he even started to speak, a blush crept up Dib’s face. He pretended to fiddle with a machine to hide it. “I just feel like it’d be too pathetic to, after all these years of high stakes, life or death situations, die taking you home.”

“Pathetic, yes, but convenient for Zim… also yes.”

“Really. After all of our battles and after this period of a truce—”

“This is not a truce, Zim is just saving his resources for ‘the big enchilada!’”

“Right, ‘the enchilada,’ but after all of that you’d like to see me die at the hands, er wheels, of another human?”

Dib was still turned away from Zim and noted with surprise that he couldn’t hear him.

“Me, the human you couldn’t kill in five years slain at the—”

“Shut up, you filth!”

Dib shut up.

“Fine. I’ll stay at your stupid house so your stupid big head doesn’t get crushed by a stupid car. Happy?”

“Yep, love it,” he said dryly. Dib moved past Zim and wove his way around machinery to the door leading into the house. He turned upon reaching it to see that Zim hadn’t moved. “I’m not going to make you stand in the garage all night, come on.” Zim followed silently into the kitchen and watched as Dib stuffed the toaster and pulled out a jar of peanut butter and a knife.

“Help yourself if you’re hungry. Anything but the pizza in the fridge is up for grabs and I can heat something up too if you’d like.”

Needing no further invitation except Dib’s indication of the pantry’s location, Zim opened it and a moment later emerged with an armful of snack food. When Dib looked about to say something, Zim made scathing eye contact and dumped the packages on the table. “Is there a problem, _Dib_?”

“No, no, I said anything but the pizza.” Dib sighed. “Could I get you a drink like, uh, a glass of water or—”

“Yes of course, and after I dissolve from the inside out you can go and get your head flattened by a car.”

Dib winced. Zim ripped into a packet of cheese curls. “Shit, sorry, that’s just what I’m supposed to say to guests, I didn’t really think.”

“Clearly.”

“I’ll, um. I’ll be right back.” He shouted ‘don’t let my toast burn. And don’t forget your promise!’ as he raced up the stairs.

Zim kicked his feet on his chair and started scarfing down snacks with fervor. He watched the toaster begin to release gray and then black smoke and continued to eat as the kitchen filled with an acrid stench. When Dib finally padded down the stairs sans a coat and shoes and wearing a pair of sweatpants Zim had never seen, the kitchen was consumed in a cloud of smoke.

“What the fuck?” Dib shouted as he rushed to the toaster, “I told you to not let my toast burn!”

Ripping into his fifth bag, Zim shrugged. “Yeah, and? I don’t know how that thing works.” Zim grinned watching Dib hot-potato the charred toast into the trash. After switching on the hood fan, he grabbed the jar and knife still on the counter. He started to flick a glob of peanut butter at the oblivious alien, but thinking better of it ate it off the knife.

“Why don’t we move into the living room, where there’s less smoke,” Dib sighed.

“Sure, whatever.” Zim hopped off the chair, leaving behind his half-finished, family-size bag of chips and 6 smaller wrappers.

In the other room, Dib grabbed the remote off the coffee table and flopped into the couch. Zim settled onto the other side and watched Dib’s slouch deepen as he began flipping through channels. Once Dib had found a re-run of “Mysterious Mysteries” he tossed the remote between him and Zim and ate a knifefull of peanut butter. The episode was mid-way through and appeared to be about a swarm of vampire bees terrorizing Puerto Rico. They watched in silence, but when the third shoddily animated “artist's rendition” played, Zim intervened.

“What am I looking at?”

“Ghoh.” Dib struggled to swallow the glob of peanut butter he had just licked off before trying to speak again. “This is a show I used to watch in middle school. It’s not really that great, but. Y’know.”

“No, I don’t know. If it’s not good why are you wasting my time with it?”

Dib wriggled upright to set his jar on the table. “Watching TV is just what you’re supposed to do with guests over. I didn’t know what else to put on, I don’t watch that much TV anymore.”

“Well your guest doesn’t like it, so change the channel.”

“But this one’s a classic!”

Zim crossed his arms, “You just said this show was bad.”

“Yeah, but,” Dib struggled for a moment to convince himself the battle was worth it, but a poorly timed video of a man cowering from a CGI bee settled the argument. “Fine.”

Zim grabbed the remote with a wicked smile and started flicking through channels with a practiced ease.

“No. No. No. No.”

“What about that one?”

“Dookey. No. No. No. N—”

“That looks okay.”

“You’re wrong. No. No. No. No. Hmm,” Zim paused at “The Angry Monkey Show.” Dib watched a calculating expression form on Zim’s face, until, “Nah. No. No.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Dib leaned over and snatched the remote out of Zim’s two-handed grasp, ignoring a “hey!,” and switching quickly through channels. Arriving at nature documentary, Dib made his proposal. “This or nothing, space-boy.”

Zim watched the hippopotamuses long enough to blink twice before lunging at Dib and climbing him when he held the remote out of Zim’s reach. “Zim refuses to watch these filthy stink beasts, give Zim the remote!”

“No way, you’re just gonna surf channels until I die! Now get ogduh,” Dib gagged when one of Zim’s hands conveniently found its way into his mouth on his climb to the remote. The remote fell out of his hand and onto the ground, quickly followed by Zim. The moment the alien was off Dib he vaulted the coffee table and jabbed the television’s power button, moving to block the sensor as soon as he had.

“Foolish human, now Zim has control of— what?!”

Dib gave a low chuckle and pushed his glasses to the top of his nose. “You just fell for the ol’ drop and block, otherwise known as the oldest trick in the book!”

“Zim knows of no such book! Why will it not obey!” Zim mashed the power button furiously, throwing the remote on the ground when it failed to respond.

Dib allowed himself only a moment to be amused at Zim’s tantrum. “Look, I gave you a choice, and this is what you chose, if this is going to work out you need to stop being so difficult. I’m not even asking you to stop arguing or yelling, just stop going berserk when things don’t immediately go your way.”

Zim allowed a pregnant pause to pass. “What do you mean,” he braced his next few words in finger quotes, “‘if this is going to work out.’”

“You know,” Dib averted his gaze to the wall, trying to pass his expression off as frustrated, “us hanging out, no fighting involved.”

“So you admit it! You lured Zim here knowing you had the ‘home quarters advantage’ to not fight!”

“Yes.”

“I knew it!” Zim’s ‘I’m right’ grin wilted, followed by his accusatory finger. “But… I… Zim does not understand. If I’m not invading and you’re not trying to stop me, then what are we doing?”

Dib gestured at the TV and then at the kitchen where the vent was still working.

“So you lured Zim here to eat snacks and watch TV?”

“I invited you, you didn’t have to come and you can leave any time you want.” A clap of thunder defied the later statement. “Well, sort of.”

“Oh. But why? Fighting is all we have ever done.”

“But it doesn’t have to be like that!” Dib’s voice was suddenly passionate. “We get along all right at school and ever since you started working on the big taco—”

“Enchilada.”

“—enchilada, we haven’t had any reason to fight except over stupid, petty shit like the remote!”

“Zim sees your point, but what is,” he gestured vaguely, “the point of such an interaction?”

At this, Dib’s face turned sad. “It feels good.”

“You’re wrong, victory feels good, not your squishy human feelings!”

“So you’re not a species that seeks out companionship within your species, or anyone I suppose, but you could still get something out of this. When I helped you tonight that’s a symptom of this, and when I gave you snacks, and I _know_ you like watching TV, those are all things that this change can do for you! I know some part of you, however deep down, wants it too because why else would you continue to keep the promise you made after I disinfected you? And plus, I could introduce you to video games! I know you’ll like them and they’re way better with more than one person.”

“Zim is—”

“Stop. I need you to—”

“Zim will not—”

“I’m serious! Zim, I know change is hard, and I’ll be honest I couldn’t even admit to myself that I wanted this until like, just now. I convinced myself that the reason I wanted to help you tonight was because I could use it as an opportunity to make a 3D X-ray scan of your body— we can talk about deleting it later— but after I finished, I,” Dib took a deep breath, “realized that I didn’t want you to leave. So before you say anything like ‘uuuuuh I don’t know about all of that, Dib I think I’d rather cut your face off’ and then cut my face off, take a second to think if this is something you might want.”

Zim took a second to think if that was something he might want. While he considered and while making several exaggerated ‘hmmmms’ he looked between the kitchen, the remote on the floor, and Dib’s earnest face. And then he looked out the window. Out the window where the storm was still howling and the temperature still dropping. But in the window he also saw the room where a soft yellow light illuminated the couch and the Dib and the everything else.

Zim stooped to pick up the remote and walked with it to settle into the couch. “So you said something about video games?”


End file.
